


Midnight Run To Jericho

by Claire



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Exhibitionism, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-22
Updated: 2006-05-22
Packaged: 2019-01-17 01:04:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12354207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/pseuds/Claire
Summary: John speaks and Rodney obeys





	Midnight Run To Jericho

The room is dark when Rodney steps inside, the door closing behind him and shutting out the ambient light from the corridor.

"Strip and kneel on the bed."

He doesn't jump when the voice comes out of the darkness; he's been half expecting it since he came inside. He can't see John, the shadows mask him too well. All he can make out is a vague outline of a shape where the voice is coming from.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Rodney."

Rodney only hesitates a second before he starts removing his clothes, dropping them behind him with each step he takes, body moving towards the bed. As he gets closer the lights over the bed brighten slightly, casting a dull glow. He climbs onto the bed, mattress dipping under his weight as he settles on his knees facing John.

"Touch yourself," John demands.

Rodney raises a hand before-- "Where?" His voice is rough, unused.

"Everywhere."

He can hear the smile in John's voice, knows John isn't going to make this easy for him. He presses his fingers to his skin, touch lighter than he's used to. His skin feels hot beneath his fingertips, gooseflesh raising in blazing hot trails under his touch. His fingers skim over his nipples, nubs hardening at the careful caress. His eyes close as he rolls a nipple between his finger and thumb. He's always been sensitive here, more so than other men he's known. He can feel his cock hardening, lengthening and thickening as his hand runs over his skin.

"Lower."

The word makes his eyes snap open, a sharp reminder that he's not alone. Not that he could ever forget it. Even silent, John will not be ignored. Rodney feels him in every touch, every kiss. Feels him in every loving bruise that decorates his body.

His hands move lower, fingers following the trail of hair down his stomach that leads to the nest of curls at his groin. He skims around his cock, running his nails over his thigh, feeling the dull furrows in his flesh.

"Rodney."

John's raised the lights above him, muted illumination shining down onto him. Sharp hazel eyes watch him as John leans forward.

"Jack yourself."

Rodney doesn't - _can't_ \- tear his gaze away from John's as he wraps his fingers around his cock, heavy, solid and alive in his fist. He starts slowly, touch almost teasing in its lightness.

"Rodney."

His name is a warning. John wants this fast, not drawn out. There's a time to hover on the edge for hours, but this isn't it. Adjusting his grip, Rodney falls into the rhythm he knows his body reacts to. His thumb runs over the head of his cock, gathering the pre-come and slicking it over himself. The movement's easier now, quick and slippery, dirty wet sounds invading the silence around him.

He watches as the only response from John is a quickening of his breath. Control and need all held within eyes that are totally fixed on Rodney. And maybe it's the movement of his fingers over his cock or the heated gaze John has on him, but Rodney's coming. Balls tightening and come shooting out of his cock, splattering on his chest and running over his fingers. He's still jerking his cock, half-hard and twitching, still waiting for John to tell him to stop, to fuck him, to do anything but sit there.

It's sudden when John moves, crossing the distance to the bed in quick, easy strides before he's there, arms wrapped around Rodney's shuddering body and lips pressed against Rodney's skin.

And Rodney doesn't know if the word he's gasping is a plea or a curse, but he knows it's John's name.

He knows it always has been.


End file.
